In The Life of Emily Riddle
by ElizabethLauren
Summary: Emily Riddle, the daughter of lord Voldemort is a very powerful witch, if not pure evil. She’s grown up knowing her whole life that Harry Potter needs to die without a reason known to her. So once she reached 15 her father sends her out to kill him. Fir


Emily Riddle, the daughter of lord Voldemort is a very powerful witch, if not pure evil. She's grown up knowing her whole life that Harry Potter needs to die without a reason known to her. So, once she reached 15, her father sends her out to kill him. First, getting close to him, and then striking, Sure, that's downright dirty, but what can you expect from a girl who grew up only knowing evil? But as she gets closer and closer to Harry, she finds out so much about herself and him, that it frightens her. No, this is not a fan fic where Harry falls in love with Emily, for all I care, Harry could fall in love with Snape! Ahahaha. Sorry, I didn't mean that. I know, just to make you people happy it'll be a Harry/Hermione fic. It seems to be the most popular, but whatever. As far as romance for Emily goes, well, you'll just have to wait and see. Hope you like my fic. I know I put it under "humor" as one of the second categories, but most of the real humor will come in later chapters. So… enjoy! R/R!

A cat sat, calmly waiting at the end of the Dursely's Driveway on Privet Drive. This would have been quite normal, considering how many stray cats could be found in the small neighborhood, but this cat was an exception to a whole other extreme. The feline had a shiny, sleek coat of fur, had the most extraordinary golden eyes, and, she was a girl. In the sunlight they would look like blazing fires, but right now the moonlight just made them look like glowering coals, fading away silently. If anybody were to take a stroll in the middle of the night at 2:00 pm, they probably wouldn't even have noticed the cat, silently watching the house with a starving hunger. After several minutes had passed, the cat got up and walked away. Once safely out of sight, she ducked into the shadows. When she emerged from the darkness, though, she was no longer the mysterious cat, but a 15-year-old girl. She still had many qualities of the cat; it's sleek black hair, which for her was in loose ringlets, and the magnificently colored eyes. She wore dark denim bellbottoms with cargo pockets and a simple, yet chic black turtleneck sweater. She grinned to herself, then continued walking down the street in long strides, her hands stuffed in her pockets. She had a task set before her, a task that will be hard to complete, but it will be done. Or else, her death will be upon her on failing. She was the daughter of a dark lord who bore many deaths on his conscience, Lord Voldemort. As she continued gliding down the street with ease, she only had one thought on her mind; I must kill Harry Potter. It is the task set before me by my father, and it must be completed. It must.

This is the story of Emily Riddle

I walked briskly down the sidewalk, my breath chilling over and visible in the dark air of the night. I shivered. Some summer, honestly. I mean, it's supposed to be warm and sunny, but lately it's been just plain cold and the skies have stayed a solemn gray, blotting out the sun that was trying desperately to shine. I frowned. Why in the world was I thinking about the _weather?_ I had something far more important on my mind, _murder._ Ok, so I admit that murder is not exactly the average thing on a fifteen-year-olds mind. But, you see, I'm different. I'm the daughter of Lord Voldemort. Father told me to kill Harry Potter, or to be killed myself, at his own hands. Cruel, isn't it? Well, anyways, I better hurry to Tiller's Drinks, a meeting place for dark wizards. I had to meet Carl there. Carl is a follower of my father, and extremely loyal at that. I finally reached the shabby pub that was swallowed up by shadows with a wooden sign tilting just above the door reading; Tiller's Drinks. I let out a long, slow breath before continuing into the pub. I almost immediately spotted Carl, who was jumping up and down in his seat when he saw me enter. What a child. I waved at him, remembering my dignity, and strode over to him, then took a seat across from him in the booth. "And how have you been, love?" he grinned idiotically. I just mustered up a smile and said; "Fine, and you?" He grinned and then said "great". "Imagine, the Lord's pride and joy going to Hogwarts…" he said dreamily, gazing off into space. "Yeah, well, for murder of course." I said grimly, not bothering to keep my voice down for the few people in here. I knew no one would care much, we were all dark wizards and witches. This seemed to finally pull Carl out of his own little fantasy world and into mine. "Oh, yes, forgot about that…" he said sadly. "You're a fool, you know that? I'm surprised Father has even kept you this long." I said shortly, glancing at the bartender who at the time was cleaning a mug. Carl looked hurt, but I didn't care. "Speaking of your father, he told me to tell you that term starts tomorrow." Carl said in an important tone. "No, really? It's not like Father already told me that, but, you know…" I said sarcastically. Carl frowned at me. I now stared at a clock, ticking slowly on the wall to my right. "You're father was right to pick you for the job." said Carl seriously. I never heard him sound like he wasn't a drunken fool, so I turned to him, staring at him with amazement, waiting for him to continue. "You're just as heartless as your father." He continued. He didn't look at me, but stared out the window. My jaw dropped just a little. Carl was dead serious. I tore my gaze away from him, hurt somehow. How can a fool like Carl hurt me so much? _Because I know he's telling the truth._ I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. "Whatever, Carl." I said dully, trying to seem emotionless despite the unsettled feeling inside me. Carl looked me up and down, then nodded without a word. "I really must be going. I'll be seeing you later." I said, and then a stood up and walked away. As I pushed up the front door, I saw out of the corner of my Carl staring out the window, a frown on his normally grinning face. _He's just an idiot, forget him._ As I walked off into the night, I shivered… and it wasn't from the cold.

I'm on platform 9 ¾ now. A boy a few feet away from me was balancing a chocolate frog on his tongue; a crowd was beginning to gather around him to watch his little trick. _Idiots, all of them._ I looked away, bored. I spotted a family of red heads now stepping onto the platform. Weasely's, no doubt. Next, a boy with dark brown hair and glinting green eyes entered onto the platform. A snowy white owl was sitting on his shoulders. Potter. I grinned darkly to myself. Oh what fun we're going to have. I let my hand trail down my side. I stopped at my hips. Under my thick cloak I felt the form of a dagger. My grin stretched even farther as I traced the dagger with my fingers. _It's you or me potter, and let me tell you, it's going to be you._

After a few more minutes of standing around, students began to board the train. I picked up my suitcase and followed the crowd inside. When it was my turn to board, I handed a man my suitcase and he tossed into the storage compartment. Then I took my first step into the train, beginning my journey to Hogwarts. My plan was to sit in the compartment with Harry and his friends so I could get to know him more quickly. Only one problem. Each compartment could only seat six students. And there were six people, including Harry that is. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna. Well, now this is where the fun began. I had to pick one of them to tie up and throw in the back compartment so there would be room for me. Let's see now, I couldn't pick Harry, for the most obvious reasons. And it wouldn't be smart to pick Ron or Hermione because there are such close friends with him. That left Neville, Ginny and Luna. Well, being that I'm female myself, why would I tie up a girl, when I could tie up a boy. Neville it would be then. I began walking down the long, narrow hallway of the train. I spotted my prey, clumsily tying his shoes. I grinned, made sure no one else was around, then pulled the hood of my cloak above my head, and let it fall over my eyes. I didn't want him to know it was me. Then I dug deep into one of the pockets in my cloak and drew out a long, thick rope. Oh yes, the fun was about to begin. O snuck up behind. He was still bent over, tying his shoes. My hands struck out wit practiced ease and quickness, grabbing hid wrists. I brought his hand behind his back and tied them quickly, knotting it several times. "Wha…?" he began dumbly, but I quickly pulled out a bandana from another pocket and covered his mouth, tying it behind his head. I pulled out another rope now and bound his feet tightly together. I finished the job with a simple wave of my hand, making him disappear before and send him to the storage compartment in the back of the train. I grinned darkly. Lovely, now it's time for some real fun.


End file.
